


don't let me fall asleep

by Bunnysharks



Series: The Path of Divinity [2]
Category: OneShot (Video Game)
Genre: Familial Love, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Reader-Insert, Time Loop, back at it again with this stupid shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 08:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12649632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnysharks/pseuds/Bunnysharks
Summary: Niko was only a child, so it made sense to you that they needed their rest as often as they did.You wish you could still sleep.





	don't let me fall asleep

**Author's Note:**

> "Insomnia is a vertiginous lucidity that can convert paradise itself into a place of torture." -Emil Cioran

The library had been the one place you dreaded most of all, when the time had come for Niko's designated nap breaks.

It was almost funny, just how fiercely you began to loathe the scent of old books, the faint hints of sweet vanilla and almonds churning through every page. Nearly every soul you've met had always found great solace in such a cozy smell; but just a slight whiff of it had now made your heart clench from the weight of your inhibitions. It nearly forces you off the knife's edge every time.

The library was no longer the opulent beacon of insight as you once breathlessly marked it to be, gawking at it's crimson halls and ceiling-high bookshelves filled to the brim with all forms of knowledge and prose completely foreign to you. There was once a time where you sought comfort and delight within those humbled pages, and now that you finally had all of the time in the world to waste, you turned up your nose in disgust. 

The Author was ever-present in each novel; each encyclopedia and almanac that tumbled from the shelves- a waking reminder of the man who brooded over it all. In his eyes, there was no such thing as a choice too insignificant, no movements that hadn't caught his gleaming gaze; not a single loop unseen where he'd flinch as you deftly crushed the sun beneath your heels or sigh in grim apprehension as the citizens reveled beneath the gentle grace of the sunbeams.

...

It was because Niko would unfailingly be plagued with nightmares here in this guest room, every single time.

They'd cry and shake and turn over in their sleep, beads of sweat clinging to their forehead and marbles of tears streaming down their flushed cheeks, whimpering and sobbing to themselves over the same horror you'd been forced to bear witness to each time.

Sometimes, only sometimes; you wished that you had the choice of looking away- that turning a blind was an option on the table if there was no such thing as a panacea for Niko's night terrors. You'd never sit and allow for them to stew in their own nightmarish ravages if you held any power to prevent it otherwise, but at the very least, you wished you didn't have to watch a child's deepest fears flutter to life and drag you in the undertow- strangling what little life had remained in your soul, flailing weakly and left to rot. Such was the curse of omnipotence, you learned all too quickly. You could never look away. The images were burned into your eyelids, you swore they were, now. 

You always tried to calm Niko down, each time.

You'd press your forehead to theirs and stroke their hair lovingly, whispering softly to them in assurance and holding them close. You loved Niko like they were your own child, and you were tired of seeing them hurt like this. You were sick of seeing them tormented by the same ghost, over and over, turning Niko in their sleep ceaselessly as you're forced to watch the same terrors unfold.

You're not sure if it even helps, at all. Niko's suffering isn't easy for you to pinpoint aside from a self-fashioned tier system that you had memorized in the back of your head, coupled with the act of translating their body language into something even you could decipher. Reading Niko was second nature to you, so much that you could frighten them with the near clairvoyant-level obsession, if you desired.

Within their dreams captured an aspect of emotion you wished you could turn away from.

The familiarity of it all was becoming sickening.

From further down the hall is the distinct, melodic humming of the local bibliophile, the die-head whose personality had changed drastically with each loop. The die of fate had never rolled the same number twice before; a paltry countermeasure to ensure that at least _someone_ in the world hadn't lost their flavor as quickly as the rest.

As a result, you grew bored with George the slowest.

But unfortunately, that time had come several dozen loops ago.

George was nice, really; she was. Regardless of the facet you dealt with, she performed her role perfectly, each number more charming than the last. Not that you didn't have any personal favorites you preferred- but she was by far one of the most conversational people you've ever had the privilege of meeting.

You'd waste the hours with George on occasions as an alternative for sleeping, gazing down upon the blazing city and tracing shapes into the glass window with a finger as you burned through time with pointless topics and meaningless laughter. You breezed through it all with such practiced ease that out of sheer respect, you'd hardly utter a word to her some cycles just to ensure that she'd actually get her work done. The process was meticulous and completely beyond you, after all; you'd sift through the translation journals and crack the code yourself if that didn't make George's entire role in the world obsolete entirely.

You knew better than anyone else what it was like to be dealt a cruel fate by the hands of someone who cared not for tenderness- you at least had the decency not to subjugate anyone else to that form of suffering. Even if she'd never know; that was all the more twisted. You hadn't gone so far down the rabbit hole that you'd forgotten your humanity.

You often wonder how long that'll last- until the cycles catch up and squeeze what drops remain of your small hold on reality.

 

* * *

_“You're not going to take off your hat?"_  you tutted to Niko as you removed your shoes, placing them beside the foot of the bed.

“Oh, right,” they squeaked, plucking off their hat and plopping it next to the sun. “Thank you for reminding me!” They smiled cheerfully, and you couldn't help but chuckle.

 _“_ I can't imagine it's comfortable to sleep with that on,” you laughed and tucked your legs beneath the cold sheets, the mattress a little too thin and the bed-springs too creaky for your particular tastes. The air was charitably warmer here than the Barrens or the Glen, but something about the air was stifling in a way you couldn't quite comprehend. It made your chest tighten.

  
Maybe that was just you, in the end.

“Most of the time, I don't even notice! I forget sometimes, though,” Niko bounced in place, clapping their hands together before wiggling beneath the blankets, trying to settle on position before they began curling into themself.

You wish you could sleep.

All that ever came of the attempts were hours of staring so hard at the ceiling that it would start sprawling above you, making overhead symbols and squirming shapes that made your eyes burn and your throat run dry. Tossing and turning was a luxury deprived of you when you shared a bed with Niko, joints aching insufferably and screaming for you to move, stretch or bend or do s _omething, dammit-_ before it all subsided into an ache like static.

Consciousness was a fickle beast, and it was only during some of the more fortuitous cycles that you were permitted the extravagance of slipping into the sweet clutches of sleep. Most of the time, the act of trying to sleep was a torturous experience. Your legs would tangle in the sheets and the cold sweat would drip down your back and sting your skin with it's chilled toxicity, your breath hitched in your throat as you choked on gobs of lethargy and panic that lurched forward.

Your fingers twitched and clutched the blankets so tightly that your knuckles had lost all semblance of color.

“You cozy, kiddo?” You turned over on your side to distract yourself, breathing out through your nose and brushing a lock of hair from out of your eyes.

  
Niko nodded.

“I like it here,” they closed their eyes slowly, contented, “ It's quiet, and it smells nice, too.”

You drew your legs up underneath you, pulling the blankets up a little so that they fully enveloped Niko.

“Mm. Let me know if you get cold,” you remarked guilelessly, shifting uncomfortably as your eyes settled for focusing about the room bathed in red. The blankets were dustier than the books themselves, and the scent was just as potent.

“Okay,” Niko responded, and they scooted just a little closer to you. Not enough to make physical contact, but the action does not elude you. They say nothing further and their eyes do not open, but it was all too easy for you to tell that they were still wide awake.

“It's been a long journey,” your voice is hushed as you speak, “Are you excited to go home?”

The entire facade is such a dreadful cacophony throbbing in your skull that it almost physically aches to ask them this. If there were any precautions you could take to edge Niko further and further away from whatever phantom was triggering their nightmares, you'd do it as many times as it took. Even if it meant you had to shoulder the horrors yourself.

You didn't realize how terrible of a question that must have been to ask, in hindsight. Their eyes flit open again, limpid globs of amber and narrowed slits focusing so intently onto you that it was almost eerie.

“...Sort of,” Niko hesitated, but you wait for them to finish before you decided you'd delve a little deeper into the topic. “...What about you?”  
  
You found yourself struck with an apprehension that you've become intimately familiar with.

“Well, I'm not looking forward to the housework I'll have to get back to,” you threw in casually, intent on downplaying the issue with a subdued grin. 'I'm mostly hyped to get you away from this place.”

An unbearable silence fell. You swallowed hard, the words breaking into pieces and dissipating into lonely dust as for an inscrutable minute or two, neither of you budged. Niko, finally, scooched in closer to you and buried their head in your chest, their hair sighing softly against your skin like the petals of a baby's breath.

 _“I wish you could come with me,”_ Niko mumbled, nuzzling into you as your hands roamed and pulled them in closer, embracing them under the covers as your fingers played with their violet locks. They settled down ever-so-gently into you, as if that was they had always belonged, as if you were their cradle; their home. Niko was warmer than the pleasant balminess of a summer afternoon.

They were gentle, like the sun.

You squeezed your eyes shut and wordlessly stroked Niko's head, your other hand matted in their long scarf as your nails snagged themselves in the flawless needlework. You felt the waves beckon you out to sea, luring you in with it's intoxicating call. Your heart wandered and the thoughts begin submerging your brain. _“I know, sweetheart. I know.”_

Niko, unsatisfied, shakes their head and whined into you.

“Can you come with me, maybe? Just for a little while?” They murmured into the space where your heart lied, and you cannot read their expression when they're this close to you. You're not sure whether to be thankful or disparaged by this revelation. “Just until you meet Mama, or maybe some of my friends- they're really nice people, I promise. My neighbors bake fresh bread every morning, and they always share with everyone-”

“They sound like wonderful people,” you breathed out, imagining the magical fragrance of fresh-baked loaves of bread, smiling curiously at the thought of a little village filled with more people like Niko, with similar anatomy and deer-hearted kindness. _“Tell me more about your village, Niko.”_

They spoke so excitedly about the splendor of it all, so much that you could envision the sun beaming against the golden wheat stalks that danced in the light breeze, the air so clear and crisp, the helms of wheat kissing your fingertips and you reached out to brush them gingerly. The sun and it's rays of gold reflected off of them with such a purifying sheen, and your heart soared at the thought of Niko having been raised so lovingly in such an enchanting little hamlet lost in a sea of stalks.

Niko prattled on so passionately about the local children and the games they played, of hop-scotch beneath the benevolent vastness of an autumn sky the color of an ocean's dream, going on forever as if the whole world was stretching out to infinity. Of their neighbor's shenanigans and the parties they held, of times where the kids dared each other to swipe and take a swig of one of the grown-up's alcohol, laughing into the night even after they've been scolded icily by their parents.

They went on endlessly about their Mama, above all else. Of how great she was with her knitting needles, how her lullabies were softer than the light of the stars, and how nothing in the world could have possibly paralleled to the taste of her homemade pancakes, spring hazelnuts ground up and mixed into the batter to create a rich, earthly taste that nothing in all the world could have ever compared to.

Niko brought their short arms around you, obstinately clinging close to whatever piece of you they could have gotten their small hands on, unsatisfied with a distance any longer than this.

“That sounds wonderful,” you said, still floating in the reverie of Niko's stories. “...But you told me that you've never been to the ocean?”

“Nuh-uh,” they sniffed, suffocating in their own homesickness.

“...Then I'll take you with me,” you murmured, resolute.

Niko looked up, eyes glittering and shimmering like molten gold. “Really? Is it bigger than the wheat fields?”

“ _Much_ bigger,” you promised, “It's a deep blue as far as you can see. There's little ships, too, and buoys bobbing in the waves just along the horizon. You'll never see a more beautiful sunset, Niko, I promise you. There's a pier with the perfect view I know of, right along the boardwalk I know you'll just love it; there's games and souvenirs shops, and a lady there who sells the best ice cream in the whole city. I've been going to her for years, and she's the sweetest woman. Why, I think her and your Mama would get along well.”

Niko wiggled excitedly in your embrace, their smile widening so far you can see their tiny fangs from beneath the scarlet shadow of the room.

“That sounds amazing,” they chirped in childish amazement, “I wanna see the ocean with you!”

Something sharp instantly tore into you, making your heart clench so tightly that the vertigo that slammed into you was downright debilitating. A distasteful bile rose to the back of your throat, and you almost lost the skirmish to force it down.

“You will,” you granted them the invitation with a plastic smile, “I'll take you with me, too. We'll both go. I have to show you the sea at night, too, when the lighthouse is working. The sea is magical at night, Niko, with the way the moon glimmers over the waves and you can see the reflection in the water-”

“I want to go with you,” Niko pleaded, squeezing you so tightly that it almost hurt.

“You will,” you repeated desperately, shaking at the blissful fantasy that lay strangled in your dreams. “I'll give you anything you want, Niko,” you stroked their head, a brief cry of what almost sounded like resignation bubbling in your throat. “I'll give you the moon, when we go. Just say the word, and I'll throw a lasso around her and pull her down,” you whispered into the top of their head, as if you were sharing your most deepest secret with a best friend.

“The moon,” Niko chimed, their elation manifesting. “I haven't seen the moon in a long time...”

You could scarcely envision the bayside, radiant beneath the moonbeams that spilled forth from the heavens.

“Neither have I, dear.”

You've almost forgotten what it looks like.

Niko pulled away from you momentarily, clasping your hand with both of theirs, and curling their fingers possessively around yours.

“We have to go,” you knew it was more than a suggestion, “I wanna take you to Mama's house, and we need to have fun, together! After, I wanna go to the ocean with you, I want to have ice cream together and see what your world is like! I want to see everything with you, after all of this!”

You smiled wanly at this, wanting oh-so badly to capture all of those imaginary moments in reality, but the thoughts burned so badly that any semblance of the events that would come next like clockwork had shattered all of it, mangling it beyond all recognition so that everything was all just one, unceremonious blur that you could hardly see through the tears.

“Of course,” you pulled Niko back in, the tears spilling onto the tainted pillowcase, droplets staining the fabric in diluted shades.

“Promise me,” they insisted impishly, shaking you very lightly.

Your lip quivered dangerously, and you realize with amused bitterness that it had been a long while since you were actually, genuinely shoved to the point of tears.  
  
_“I promise,”_ the pledge died flavorless on your lips, and it is only then that Niko curls into you yet again and settled, their breath rhythmic against your chest and almost lulling you in with it's serenity.

“Get some rest, Niko. Sleep well.”

You hoped that the exchange of their hometown was enough to tide them over for the remainder of the journey- if not at least, to quell whatever lingered on their minds that warranted the nightmares. In the end, all you had done was bring up their hopes and as a consequence, completely obliterate your own.

This was justice, honestly. It was a crying shame to have disillusioned Niko like that; but punishing yourself with the entrancing what-if scenarios? The pain you felt was justice. _You deserved it._

For failing in your duty as a God to find your way out.

 

Niko didn't know that the maze had no exit. You intended to keep it that way, even it it killed you.

 

You earnestly hoped with all of your being that you would not sleep, tonight. The dreams would not treat you kindly.

 

“I love you,” Niko mumbled tiredly, and you allowed for yourself to drown.  
  
“I love you too, Niko,” and it was happening all over again.

As if you'd know how to give Niko a life better than this- not when you've been functionally dead for a long while. You've been frozen in time like this for so long that you've long since forgotten what it's like to start living, again. You could offer Niko nothing. Your heart and soul were worthless beyond all redemption, now.

You closed your eyes shut and allowed for the ghosts of the past cycles to drift over to you, tearing you limb from limb and throwing the shredded pieces to the wind.

 

“ _Sweet dreams.”_

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's Breath- A flower known for it's capability to flourish in soil and environments that most other plants cannot thrive in. The flowers bloom in bright, white clusters. 
> 
> -Long-lasting love  
> -Pureness and freedom from outside influences  
> -Eternal promises


End file.
